


Soap suds

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Incest, M/M, Smut, Step-Brothers, all the good stuff ;), innocent!harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-16
Updated: 2013-03-16
Packaged: 2017-12-05 11:32:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/722808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or, what happens when Louis and Harry end up in the shower together</p>
<p>(hint: it ends in sex)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soap suds

**Author's Note:**

> Based off a prompt on Tumblr:
> 
> I was wondering if you could do a Larry one shot where Harry is like, 14 and Louis' about 16 and they're step brothers and Harry goes to take a shower when their mom's at work and they skipped school or something, but he gets soap in his eyes and Louis has to help him.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love my step-brother. I mean, how can you not? I swear he’s the cutest thing alive with his mop of curls that he never seems to brush yet remains looking perfect anyway and his large green eyes that take in everything around him with that innocent stare of his. It’s been a year and a half since his mum married my dad, bringing her two children with her, and in that all time he’s never been anything but sweet to me despite the feelings of jealousy that must surely come along with seeing Anne treat me like her son too, which is why I always try to be extra nice to him too. However, that doesn’t mean I’m averse to using the power I hold over him as his older brother for my own purposes – for example, playing dares. I’m not sure if it comes out of a desire to please, impress or simply get along with me, but Harry never seems to be able to refuse a dare that I set him, be it to yell embarrassing things in public or touch a girl on the bus’ boob ‘by accident’ or even phone into our school pretending to be my dad and tell them that we were both off ill with the flu. And that’s why I’m currently sat downstairs eating chocolate cereal in my boxers at 10 in the morning, having skived a day off school for no other reason but that we can. Well, that and the fact that we have a physics test later that I haven’t revised for. Mindless cartoons are playing on the TV screen and Harry is off upstairs somewhere, so all in all it’s shaping up to be a pretty relaxed morning provided Gemma doesn’t decide to come back home from sixth form during her lunch break and catch us or something, which I’m sure is a highly unlikely prospect.

*

Finishing off my breakfast and quickly washing up the bowl so as not to leave any incriminating evidence for my parents to discover this evening, I decide that the novelty of not brushing my teeth has already worn off much faster than it used to when I was 10 and so head up to the bathroom, only to find the door locked. I can tell from the rather brilliant singing emanating through the door that Harry is in there and so bang on the door to get his attention, hoping that the sudden knocking won’t scare him so much that he slips over in the shower and knows himself unconscious or something. Thankfully that doesn’t seem to have happened for he calls out over the noise of rushing water in reply to my banging.

“What is it?” For a moment I pause, unsure whether or not I can ask to go in when he’s taking a shower, but then again it’s not like Harry’s really big on boundaries so I ask away.

“Can I come in and brush my teeth mate?” I hear him sigh in mild exasperation before crying out ‘all right then’; I turn the bathroom door handle (we don’t have an actual lock because apparently it’s a ‘fire hazard’ so instead everyone just tends to slam the door shut when they’re using the room) and make my way towards the sink, deliberately not looking over at where my step-brother is still washing himself through the clear glass of the shower door.

* 

“Morning!” he calls over the sound of rushing water, and I grin at his childish mannerisms that he still hasn’t quite grown out of and call a greeting back before turning on the tap and beginning to brush my teeth. I’m rinsing out my mouth with tap water when the cry comes from behind me.

“Ow!” Normally I’d think nothing of it and presume that Harry had just bashed his elbow against the glass or something, but this time he sounds genuinely anguished and without thinking I spin around to see what’s wrong. “Ow, ow, ow!” continues Harry, who’s in obvious pain, as I realise from the way his hands are stretched out in front of him to search for his flannel and his eyes are squeezed tight shut that he must have got soap in them. Hardly a life threatening situation, but one that I know full well hurts like crazy and that appears to have rendered him almost useless, which is probably why I do something as ridiculously overdramatic as quickly marching over there, pulling the shower door and stepping in under the water with him to help. He jumps a little at the slight crash of the door but I reach a hand out to steady him and in doing so edge him back under the flow of the water.

“Hold still,” I tell him gently, reaching for the flannel on the floor of the shower, then straightening back up to rinse the soap out of it.

*

He grunts a little at the pain that he’s still feeling and I quickly begin to clean the soap out of his eyes as briskly as I can without hurting him. The clinging wetness of my boxers is alerting me to the abnormality of the situation and I want to get it over and done with as soon as possible so as to make my escape, but at the same time there’s no way I can be anything but gentle with my adorable step-brother! Once all the soap is gone from his eyes and he’s blinked them a few times to readjust them to normal vision, Harry gives me an odd, bloodshot stare that appears to be a mixture of gratitude, surprise and something else – a hunger almost, although it’s far too innocently for that. His green irises scan my face as though searching for something, whereas his lips are a strangely bright shade of pink like he’s been licking them too much, droplets of water from the shower beading on them and occasionally dropping down to the tiled floor with a barely audible ‘plop’. His hair is plastered to his head yet still retains its curly energy, and his usually pale skin is flushed from the events of the past few minutes. He looks almost… beautiful. I don’t know what it is that comes over me just then, but suddenly his lips look so tempting that there’s nothing else I can do except lean forwards and press them against my own in an embrace that’s tentative yet which sends a jolt of undeniable electricity down my spine. Pulling away immediately, I expect Harry to have a look of fear or disgust on his face but instead there’s one of pure surprise and confusion. He remains silent, though, just standing there a little dazed while I attempt to explain what the hell I just did.

*

“Oh God, I just – I’m sorry, Harry, I didn’t, I mean…” If I’m honest it’s almost a relief when Harry steps forwards to resume the kiss because I honestly have no idea where else to go from there and actions are an awful lot easier than explanations. All thoughts fly from my mind, leaving it totally blank, ready to be filled with new sensations that come with the feeling of Harry’s lips against mine, his tongue sliding along the seam of my lips and then dipping within my mouth when I let him, the careful, delicate way he explores my mouth. There are so many things that my normal, rational, _sensible_ mind would be able to find wrong with this scenario (not least that it’s my own fucking stepbrother who’s doing this all too me) but the deep red of lust is spilling over my thoughts, rendering them obsolete as I take control of the kiss and allow it to change directions. No longer is the embrace hesitant and uncertain; I practically lunge at Harry in order to feel more, to taste more, to know more of the boy who I’ve known for over a year and yet who only now it seems am I truly starting to discover. If he wasn’t enjoying this as much as I am then I would, of course, pull away immediately, but he’s responding to my moves with equal passion and conviction that tells me this is causing him pleasure too, although he lets me dominate right from the off. I like it, the feeling of power that comes from being able to suck all the air from his lungs only to pull away and nibble along the silky-smooth skin of his jawline so he’s putty in my hands. Then my mouth begins to move down along the vein in his neck that I know from tickle fights is a particularly sensitive area of his: my teeth bite down, only for the bruises they make to be flicked over by my soothing tongue while my lips press kisses to every patch of skin that I can reach.

*

Harry is, I notice, biting his lip to hold back a groan that he’s clearly desperate to let out and which falls from his lips eventually when I make my way down to his prominent collar bones and suck a deep purple love bite into one of them for reasons I’m not quite sure of myself.

“God Lou!” he mutters under his breath, not intending for me to hear, but I grin against his skin and pull away to kiss him again, hard. It’s not the only thing that’s hard, as I realise when I press my body closer to his and feel an unexpected bump between us that I soon realise must be Harry’s rapidly growing erection – he’s stiff already and seems embarrassed of it, hiding his blushing face into his shoulder in shame.

“Hey, don’t worry,” I tell him, pressing a kiss to his wet forehead before an idea suddenly comes to me. It’s wrong, it’s dirty, but it’s also fucking hot and I somehow can’t seem to stop myself from making the offer before it’s already done. “Do you want me to help out with that?” For a moment he looks confused as he tries to work out the meaning behind my euphemism, but then his eyes widen when he finally understands and I wonder if I’ve taken it too far. I move to pull away from how I’m hugging him close against the glass of the door, but he wraps his arms around me tighter as though he doesn’t want to let me go, which is both comforting and terrifying at the same time.

*

When he finally speaks, there’s a hint of trepidation in his voice as he vocalises the as yet unexplored territory between us.

“Yes! I mean, could you, please, er… help me out?” I can’t stop the side smile that spreads over my face at that – less than half an hour ago if you’d told me I’d be pleased to hear my stepbrother ask me to give him a handjob then I’d have told you to fuck right off, but right now it feels like the best news I’ve heard all day although I’m still not sure why. Without a word I kiss him again: a long, slow, passionate embrace that gives me plenty of time to manoeuvre my hand in between our two nearly naked bodies and grasp Harry’s length, loving how he gasps against my lips when I do so. The shower is still falling on us like tropical rainfall, and the steam it’s creating prevents me from being able to see his length but I can feel it alright. It seems to be about 6 or 7 inches long, which isn’t bad at all considering he’s not fully developed yet, and the length increased as I slightly awkwardly stroke him to full hardness, the angle of my hand uncomfortable but the thought of what I’m doing undeniably arousing. Harry is no longer trying to hold back his moans of pleasure and they drip from his mouth like the droplets of water from the shower that I taste every time I kiss him – the water, that is, not the moans, although they have their own taste which resembles something sweet and totally irresistible. I’m still pumping his dick but it’s not enough, I’m desperate for more than a quick fumbled handjob right now.

*

“I’m going to suck you off now,” I whisper against his lips before I even have time to think about what the implications behind my words are. Harry gasps and I feel his dick twitch in my hand, the idea of me on my knees with his cock in my mouth clearly as much of a turn on for him as it is for me. It’s wrong, I know that, but the line between doing what’s right and doing what’s pleasurable appears to have faded into non-existence as I lick a long line down his chest and taste the staleness of the water mixed with the salt of his sweat. When I reach his snail trail of hair I pause to reposition myself so I’m knelt more comfortably on the tiled floor, his length practically in my face already. I should probably ask something like ‘are you sure?’, but I’m way too horny for that right now so instead I simply set about to business by licking a stripe up the underside of his cock, following the line of the vein. I’m pretty sure this is his first time ever, so I want to make everything as pleasurable for him as possible so that he’ll want to do this with… other people again. After pressing a few teasing kisses to the head of his member, I finally wrap my lips around his girth and duck my head down to engulf some of it in the warm heat of my mouth, causing Harry to squeal in a way I’m totally going to tease him about mercilessly later. His hands flail around helplessly for a little while I bob my head up and down, my tongue flicking across his shaft whenever possible, before settling in my short brown hair, his fingers tangling amongst the roots but never being forceful, just constantly present. Knowing all too well that there’s no way he will ever dare to fuck my face like I hate to admit I sort of desire, I make the movement of my head more vigorous so that his length fills my mouth and throat until tears spring to my eyes and I can barely breathe. It’s perfection.

*

The hand that’s buried in my wet hair suddenly tugs a little at my short locks, not hard enough to hurt but enough to make me pull off immediately, worried I’ve done something wrong - well, something other than giving my own step-brother a blowjob that is.

“Are you ok, Harry?” I pant, out of breath from having had his cock filling my throat, but he shakes his head with a shaky groan.

“Yeah, yeah, I was just gonna cum…” Frowning, I make to get to my feet only to have two ridiculously large, pale hands gently holding my shoulder. “I, I want you to…” he swallows, his voice lowering a little in embarrassment. “To fuck me.” I gasp - although I sort of knew it was coming from the blush that spread up his cheeks, it’s still a shock and (though I hate to admit it) a turn on to hear the words actually fall from his mouth. I can’t deny that it sounds like an attractive prospect: my hips against his; thrusting in and out of him; him screaming my name as he reaches the height of his pleasure. However after so long of trying to clear my mind of any coherent thoughts, the doubts are beginning to seep through like damp behind a freshly painted wall. I honestly can’t believe what I’ve just done or how much pleasure it gave me – my own stepbrother was about to cum in my mouth for Christ’s sake! Eventually my mouth catches up with my frantic thoughts, finally voicing my inner inhibitions.

“B-but, Harry, we can’t! We’re brothers… It’s wrong!”

*

For a second there was a look of disappointment on his face – a heartbreaking stare that made it look like I’d just stomped on his puppy or some such heinous crime – before it was replaced by an incredulous, almost mocking half-grin.

“Louis, you just sucked me off in a shower – I think the whole idea of being right and wrong went out of the window a long time ago!” I have to admit he makes a good point: mightn’t we just as well finish what we’ve started now that Harry is still so hard and I am painfully aware of the constrictions of my own pants against my erection? There is no right and wrong any more, just pleasure and the lack of it that I’ve instigated but am desperate to reverse. Sighing, I decide that there must be worse ways to go to hell and reply.

“Wait here,” I tell him, but don’t even wait for him to nod in response before getting to my feet and opening the shower door to make my way over to the bathroom cupboard in the corner.

“Were are you - ?” he begins, but I’m no longer listening; instead I open the cupboard door and begin rummaging around at the back for the lube that I stashed there a few months ago. So I’ve only had actual sex once before, and that time me and the guy who’d been chatting me up all evening fucked in a stranger’s bedroom at a party and made do with Vaseline, but I figure it’s always better to be safe than sorry, right? I think of grabbing a condom, too, but there’s no way me or Harry can have anything so instead I head back over to the still-running shower where the younger boy is still waiting for me to return.

*

“What’s that?” he asks naively when he sees the bottle in my hands, and his innocence really shouldn’t be as much of a turn on for me as it definitely is.

“It’s lube, Hazza,” I explain to him, unscrewing the cap and giving it to him to inspect. It’s nothing special – unscented, and the cheapest I could find given that I’ve only got my job at the cafe up the road to fund my shopping – and he quickly hands it back to me so that I can drop to my knees once more. “Turn around, babe,” I tell him, then realise what I’ve just called him and stop, worried about what he’ll think. Thankfully he just does as I asked, and soon enough his gorgeous pale arse is in my face and I’m spreading his legs to open him up to me. Easing apart his cheeks with my fingers, I get my first glimpse of his virgin hole and wonder what it would be like to fuck him until he can’t walk, then realise that’s probably what I’m going to end up doing. Minus the ‘not being able to walk’ bit of course. I’m still honestly scared of hurting him, after all. Despite this, I still prep him too quickly, the lube washing off my fingers as soon as I apply it and my digits causing more pain that pleasure it seems at times. When I begin to scissor him, Harry screams in real pain, and I have to pepper the skin of his thighs with kisses and allow him to grip my spare hand until he almost cuts off the circulation in it before he allows me to continue. Only when I’m attempting to add a third slicked up finger do I accidentally change angle and without realising hit directly against his prostate, causing him to scream again, only this time in pure pleasure. Realising the effect it has on him, I jab against the ball of nerves over and over until he’s desperately begging for more.

*

“God please, Lou, need you inside me right now, shit, shit, fuck me please!” No further pleading is required as I’m as desperate as he is, so I quickly straighten up and align myself with his hole. Before I push in, however, I brush the hair that has fallen in his face back over his head and kiss him softly, wanting him to know how much I love him both as a brother and more before the real pain starts.

“Are you sure you want this Harry?” Everything seems to have been leading up to this one moment when I will finally take his virginity once and for all, but first I need to make sure it’s perfect. Thankfully Harry just nods frantically, giving me full permission to buck my hips forwards and enter him carefully, knowing that despite his eagerness this is going to hurt a lot more than he realises. As predicted, Harry’s face screws up in pain when more than the tip going past his tight rim of muscles, but I deliberately stop and refuse to move until he nods to show that the pain has passed. After a few careful thrusts he leans forwards and whispers the hottest thing I think I’ve ever heard into my ear, which somehow seems to both be completely at odds with and yet totally fit his unbroken, lazy drawl.

“I’m not a china doll, Lou, so just fuck me already.”

* 

After that it’s a frenzied free for all as I gradually thrust in harder and harder: his legs wrap around my waist so I’m holding him up against the bathroom wall and I try to aim my hips to his prostate once again. It takes longer than I’d care to admit to locate it, but since neither of us are exactly experienced we’re both close to finishing anyway, and when I finally his Harry’s prostate it seems to be enough to allow him release. His orgasm comes as a string of ‘yes’s ‘Louis’s and ‘oh God’s that reverberate through the bathroom and culminate with my own moans of pleasure until I’m certain the neighbours can hear us. His hot, sticky sperm shoots across the glass wall of the shower, painting it white, and the feeling of his arse muscles clenching around me as he reaches his high is enough to send me over the edge too. I release into him harder than I’ve ever cum before – never when I’ve masturbated have I been so absorbed in my pleasure, or felt it sun through my body so I can feel the tingling sensation from my head down to the tips of my toes. It’s enough to send me dizzy with pleasure and it’s all I can do to pull out of him and watch on dazed as my cum trickles down his thighs, then turn us around so that his back is pressed against the opposite wall while the shower washes away the evidence of our activities. Once it’s cleaned it all away, I reach up to switch it off and stop us wasting even more water than we already have done, but the small gesture seems to completely wipe me out and I collapse back against his pale chest. We remain in that position together for a few minutes, listening to the way our breathing and heart rates finally begin to level out, until Harry finally breaks the silence.

“I wouldn’t mind you helping me out again if it’s always this good, Lou!” he jokes in between breaths and I huff out a laugh, nodding and reach out of the still open door for a towel to wrap around us both. I definitely wouldn’t mind this happening again either.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to hell for this. Oh my God. What did I write??? On a side note, this was the first incest I ever wrote so I hope it's OK :)


End file.
